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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29545032">break me down to dust</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShyAudacity/pseuds/ShyAudacity'>ShyAudacity</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Bad Things Happen Bingo [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>9-1-1 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Evan "Buck" Buckley Needs A Hug, Gen, Hen Wilson Is The Best, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prompt Fill, Trapped, Whump, hurts to breathe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:54:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,896</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29545032</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShyAudacity/pseuds/ShyAudacity</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He coughs as the dust leaves the room in a fog; the beam is sitting right across his chest, his left hand stuck underneath it all. The radio on his right shoulder crackles; he can just barely reach it.</p><p>“Buck, talk to me,” Bobby says. “What’s going on in there?”</p><p>"The ceiling caved in, Cap." The panic kicks in as he says the words out loud. The beam presses into his stomach more and more every time that he exhales. "I'm <em>stuck."</em></p><p>OR </p><p>For Bingo Square: Hurts To Breathe.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Evan "Buck" Buckley &amp; Firehouse 118 Crew, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Bad Things Happen Bingo [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2101905</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>559</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>break me down to dust</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaleyBuckley/gifts">HaleyBuckley</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey friends, just so you know, there is a fairly detailed panic attack that takes up a good chunk of this fic so if that's not your cup of tea, I wouldn't suggest reading this one. Haley, I hope I did the prompt justice for you!</p><p>Title from This Is Me from The Greatest Showman.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He’s clearing the basement when it happens. The rumble under Buck’s feet is familiar in a bone-chilling kind of way; an earthquake. It’s not a very big one- but it’s enough to rattle the foundation and twist his stomach into a knot. Of course, this would happen to him in the middle of a call.</p><p>He makes a move for the stairs, holding on for dear life when the aftershocks take away his center of gravity. When the wooden stairs crumble away from the door, Buck falls with them, landing on his back with a grunt. Before he can even think of moving, the support beam not four feet in front of him starts to give way and Buck feels his blood run cold.</p><p>“Oh god,” he says, mostly for his own sake.</p><p>Buck tries to pull himself up what’s left of the stairs, but it’s of little use. The beam comes down before he’s even moved a foot, catching him in the shoulder and pinning him to the remains of the staircase. He groans at the weight; one of the steps is digging into Buck’s back. The ceiling comes down with it shortly after, clouding the room with dust and other debris.</p><p>All of this for a false alarm gas leak. Just his luck.</p><p>He coughs as the dust leaves the room in a fog; the beam is sitting right across his chest, his left hand stuck underneath it all. The radio on his right shoulder crackles; he can just barely reach it.</p><p>“Buck, talk to me,” Bobby says. “What’s going on in there?”</p><p>"The ceiling caved in, Cap." The panic kicks in as he says the words out loud. The beam presses into his stomach more and more every time that he exhales. "I'm <em> stuck </em>."</p><p>A new voice asks, "What are we looking at here, Buck?"</p><p>Buck can hear the just barely there worry in Eddie’s voice, undetectable by anyone else. He takes stock of every little thing pressing into his body. "There's a support beam sitting on my chest, one of my arms is pinned under it. I'd push it off me but- <em> goddammit</em>, my foots caught on something under the debris. I can't move."</p><p>"Can you breathe?"</p><p>"Not as much as I'd like to."</p><p>There’s a pause on the other end; Buck hopes to god that they’re coming to get him. He can feel the panic welling up in his chest and that’s not going to make any of this any easier. The foggy air and all of the weight sitting on top of him are reminding him of days that he would much rather forget.</p><p>“Buck, I need you to sit tight for a minute,” Bobby says. “We’re gonna find a way to get to you out of there, but since we can’t access the inside of the house it might be a little bit.”</p><p>“O-Okay.”</p><p>Buck wiggles around as much as he can muster, hoping maybe he missed something and can find a way to get this detritus off of him. When the pieces of ceiling leaning against his legs start to shift, he kicks as much of it away as he can with his free foot, but it only kicks more dust into the air. Buck coughs and the beam shifts again, digging into his ribcage and he can’t control the gasp that comes out of his mouth.</p><p>Buck <em> really </em> hopes he isn’t bleeding somewhere under all of this. </p><p>He doesn’t realize his radio has been on the whole time until Eddie says, “Buck, you alright in there?”</p><p>It’s harder to talk now; feels like he’s at the top of Mount Everest with how thin the air is. Buck’s hand tremors as he presses the receiver. “T-Tryin’ not to move too much.”</p><p>He's tired of feeling like this; trapped in one place- literally and figuratively. He’s had enough moments like this to last him a lifetime already and he wishes they would <em> stop</em>. Why is it always him that has to be caught between a rock and a hard place?</p><p>He’s starting to think that maybe hurting is all that he’s good for.</p><p>Something shifts above him and Buck panics thinking that more of the ceiling is about to come down on top of him, but no, it’s <em> sunlight</em>. He squints against the light and the dust and Eddie’s there, calling out to him and scrambling to get closer. He’d cry if he could manage it; Buck lets out a childish whine once Eddie is close enough to touch.</p><p>“It’s alright, Buck,” he says. “You’re alright, I’m getting you out of here.”  </p><p>When the rubble finally comes off of him, he feels like he’s flying. His limbs are crying out because of the release, or maybe that’s just him. Eddie pulls the beam off of his chest and legs and then gets Buck to his feet, moving him before he’s even had a chance to process it all. He holds onto Eddie for dear life the whole way out, not trusting his body to hold him up even after they’re on solid ground.  </p><p>Even after they’re away from the mess, Buck still feels like he can’t breathe. His chest burns like someone put a cigarette out inside his lungs. Every inhale stops short of its destination. Buck sits on the back of the ambo, bent at the waist while he tries to catch his breath.</p><p>Hen is standing off to the side; he doesn’t need to look at her to know the concerned face that she’s making. She pulls her stethoscope from around her shoulders, slipping her hand inside Buck’s turnout coat as she listens. “How’re we doing, Buck?”</p><p>All he can do is shake his head. <em> “Hurts.” </em> </p><p>Buck shuts his eyes tightly, feeling like his heart is beating out of his chest. Hen’s hands quickly leave him and she calls to someone over her shoulder; it’s hard to hear over the roaring in his ears. His chest hurts like he’s been kicked a hundred times right at the top of his ribs- he just wants to <em> breathe</em>, is that too much to ask?</p><p>Eddie’s voice breaks through the chaos in his head. “Buck. Buck, talk to me- what’s going on?”</p><p>One of his hands finds Buck’s shoulder, the other one going to the back of his head; Buck forces his eyes open and it feels like the world is spinning around him. Buck reaches out, his shaking hands curling around the opening of Eddie’s turnout coat. He spits out the only thing on his mind.</p><p>“I don’t- I don’t want to be stuck.”</p><p>Eddie moves gently, tilting Buck’s head back just enough to look him in the eye. If he wasn’t so totally petrified, he’s sure the look that Eddie’s giving him would send chills down his spine. “You’re not stuck anymore, Buck- I promise. I’ve got you.”</p><p>
  <em> Then why does everything hurt? </em>
</p><p>Buck shakes his head but Eddie doesn’t stop touching him. When he ducks his head away from all the lights and noise, Eddie steps closer until Buck’s forehead is pressing against his stomach. Eddie’s hand scratches over Buck’s hairline, using his other hand to reach inside the ambo and pull an oxygen mask around Buck’s nose and mouth. The air blowing against his face alongside Eddie's hand is a gentle distraction- enough that the pain in his chest slowly starts to ebb and fade away.</p><p>Before he knows it, the mask is coming off and Buck is <em> exhausted</em>. Eddie doesn’t pull away from him and he’s grateful; he’s sure he’d fall over if asked to hold himself up. He wants to close his eyes, just for a minute, just long enough to collect his bearings then they can pick up and-.</p><p>“It’s okay, Buck,” Eddie says over his head. “I still got you; I’m not going anywhere.”</p><p>That’s all the encouragement he needs to tune out the world around him, and Buck doesn’t hesitate for even a second.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>They take him to the hospital just to make sure nothings broken. With his history of blood clots, the doctors insist on keeping him overnight- just to be safe. Buck hates it, but he knows he's outnumbered on this matter. His chest and arm have already started bruising and he doesn’t even want to think about what he’s going to look like in the morning.</p><p>He hasn't said much since they left the call. Buck thinks it’s starting to scare Eddie- or maybe it's the fact that he hasn't let go of his hand for more than a minute since getting to the hospital. Maybe both. </p><p>The rest of the team stops by just long enough to give well wishes and a few good-natured jokes about Buck being accident-prone. Hen looks curiously at Buck and Eddie's connected hands a few times, but she doesn't say anything about it. Buck knows she wouldn't say anything with a crowd around; he loves that about her. </p><p>He manages a few rough words as everyone leaves, letting himself lean into their touches a little longer than he normally would. In the end, it's only him and Eddie left. Buck stares down at their intertwined hands, wondering how long he can get away with this.</p><p>He's pulled out of his own head when Eddie closes his other hand around both of theirs and says, "You wanna tell me what's going on in that head of yours? Cause I know there's something." </p><p>The question alone makes Buck’s throat go tight; Eddie has always been able to read him well, even in the early days. He keeps his eyes downcast, feeling his face flush with embarrassment when he admits:</p><p>"It felt like I was under the truck again."</p><p>Buck can't even get the words out without tripping over himself, his breath catching painfully again. His eyes burn with tears and he hates that this is what the day has come to. Eddie gets his arms around Buck in a second, holding him across his back and chest. He nestles his face into the side of Buck's neck and Buck finally lets himself break. </p><p>His chest hurts all over again but the ache is different this time. His cries are short and panicky and Eddie holds him through the whole thing. </p><p>"You're not there, Buck," Eddie tells him after a while, rocking the both of them gently. "You're okay. You made it out- I know it hurts, but I need you to breathe for me."</p><p>He feels rattled right down to his bones, but Buck forces himself to take a long breath anyways. Then another. And another until the feeling of panic leaves him entirely. </p><p>Later, once he’s settled a bit more, Eddie shrugs off his turnout coat and tugs it around Buck’s shoulders. The familiar heaviness puts him at ease; he feels like he could melt into the mattress with exhaustion. Even still, he tugs Eddie closer to him until Buck can fit under his arm, pressed hip to ankle on the bed. The smell of Eddie's cologne is lingering in the air between them. </p><p>Eddie asks, "Better?" The stubble on his chin brushes against Buck's forehead. He hums in agreement, too tired to make words. </p><p>It's not much longer before Buck nods off on Eddie’s shoulder, his fingers curled in the edges of Eddie’s shirt, hoping that his dreams are easy for once.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>That boy really can't catch a break, huh. </p><p>Hey, thanks for reading my fic! Comments/Kudos are appreciated and encouraged. You can find me on tumblr as sweetheartbuckley if you wanna talk 911/fic/etc. Have a great day!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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